


When Feeling Out of Sight

by Morvidra



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mentioned Thorin's Company, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morvidra/pseuds/Morvidra
Summary: A tall stranger hands Bilbo an out-of-reach book. It goes from there.Title from Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning."How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and heightMy soul can reach, when feeling out of sightFor the ends of being and ideal grace."





	When Feeling Out of Sight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BakerStTardis (Sokashi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokashi/gifts).



Bilbo glared at the book.

He was fully aware that glaring at it would not make the height of the shelves shrink, nor would any amount of straining on tiptoe allow him to gain the extra centimetres of height needed to reach it. However, his alternatives were as follows:

1\. Find something to stand on.  
2\. Ask an employee for help.  
3\. Ask the other customer in the shop to help him. 

Now as far as Option One was concerned, Bilbo had already looked around. Unfortunately, despite being crammed full of as many shelves and books as could be fitted in and still allow room for customers to edge through the store, the bookstore seemed distressingly free of ladders, stepstools, or even large boxes. And Bilbo really did draw the line at standing on books.

Bilbo was perfectly prepared to enact Option Two and ask an employee, if only he could find one. He could have sworn that there had been a tall man wearing grey sitting near the cash register only moments ago, but when Bilbo had looked around for him, he was nowhere to be found.

Option Three was simply unthinkable. 

Or at least, it was unthinkable as far as Bilbo was concerned. But, as a large presence loomed over him, he realised the other man might not share his opinion on that subject. A hand came into his field of vision, easily reaching over his vainly grasping fingers to pluck the book from the shelf. 

“Is this what you were after?” a deep voice asked. The book was gently placed in his hands and Bilbo hugged it to his chest, relaxing off his tiptoes.

“Yes, yes indeed,” he said, turning to face his rescuer. He found himself face-to… _chest_ with the tall customer, and had to crane his protesting neck once more to see the man’s face. “Bilbo Baggins at your service!”

A smile appeared, briefly flashing in the short, dark beard. “Thorin Oakenshield at yours,” the man – Thorin – answered. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”

“No indeed, I was very thankful for your help.” 

The narrow width of the aisle meant that they were standing really very close together, and Bilbo thought he could make out a faint flush on Thorin’s cheeks.

Thorin opened his mouth to say something but was forestalled by a loud “THORIN!” coming from near the entrance.

“…Ah,” Thorin said instead, taking a step back. “Dwalin – my cousins – I really shouldn’t keep them waiting.” He turned to go (Bilbo stifled a pang of disappointment) then turned back. “I… enjoy your book, Mr Baggins.”

Bilbo was still staring after Thorin when the grey-clad bookshop employee returned. 

*~*~*

“Mushrooms, yes. Carrots, yes.” Bilbo checked the items off his shopping list, juggling pen and paper as he wheeled his cart through the supermarket. “Oats, hmm.” 

He turned into the cereal aisle, standing aside briefly as a grey-bearded man passed him with a pallet of boxes. Naturally, the brand he wanted was on the very top shelf. Bilbo sighed with irritation; it was as though they did this specifically to annoy him. 

Stretching on tiptoe proved that he was still unable to reach the front carton of oats, which was frustratingly not only on a high shelf but pushed back several inches from the front. Bilbo was contemplating climbing the lower shelves to gain the necessary height – probably a bad idea, as they were unlikely to support his weight – when a hand rested on his shoulder.

“Please allow me, Mr Baggins,” said an unbelievable voice. Bilbo turned in disbelief to see Thorin Oakenshield reaching over his head to pluck a carton of oats from the shelves. It was with slight irritation that Bilbo noticed Thorin’s heels didn’t even lift from the floor while doing so.

“Do you make a habit of coming to the rescue, Mr Oakenshield?” he asked Thorin. “Not that I’m not glad of the assistance, you understand…”

Thorin reddened slightly as he placed the oats in Bilbo’s hands. “I happened to be passing,” he said. “And it looked as though you could use the help. Not that you couldn’t have managed, I’m sure,” he added hastily.

Bilbo drew himself up to his full height (such as it was) and glared mildly at Thorin. “I could have _managed_.”

Thorin nodded a little too quickly, looking guilty. His shoulders hunched a little, as if shielding from an anticipated blow.

“But thank you,” Bilbo relented. Thorin straightened, and Bilbo was momentarily distracted by the man’s sheer height – breadth – _presence_. “Do you shop here often?” he asked at random.

“No, I – ah – my sister lives near here,” Thorin said disjointedly. “That is, I live with her at the moment. Now.” He moistened his lips. “I’ve just taken a job lecturing at the university, actually.”

Bilbo had lost the thread of conversation at around the point where Thorin had licked his lips, but this made his ears prick. “Eriador University?”

“Yes, do you know it?” Thorin asked.

“Yes, I—”

He was interrupted by twin cries of “ _Uncle Thorin!_ ” as two small forms barrelled into Thorin. Thorin, Bilbo was interested to note, was not even slightly knocked off-balance by the impact.

“Uncle Thorin, Mum’s at the cash register, and she says you have to hurry up,” the taller blond said.

“She said _we_ had to go _find_ you,” the shorter, darker boy informed Thorin with an air of importance.

“You may tell your mother that I will be there in just a moment,” Thorin said gravely, wrapping an arm around each boy.

“But she said to _bring you back_ ,” the blond said with an air of clinching the argument.

The smaller boy looked up at Bilbo. “Is this your friend, Uncle Thorin?” 

Thorin looked helplessly at Bilbo. “Mr Baggins, my apologies. Allow me to introduce my nephews Fili and Kili.”

“At your service,” the boys chorused.

“Are you Uncle Thorin’s friend, Mr Boggins?” the little one repeated. 

His brother elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t be rude, Kili.”

Kili looked up with an injured expression. “But I _wasn’t_ being rude, I was only _asking_ …”

“Yes, Kili, I am a friend of your uncle,” Bilbo interrupted before the brotherly argument could turn into a scuffle. He shot a sidelong glance at Thorin to check that he didn’t object to Bilbo’s claim of friendship based on two short meetings, and disturbed a fleeting expression of startled pleasure on Thorin’s face.

Fili, uninterested in the adult conversation, tugged at Thorin’s hand. “Uncle Thorin, we have to _go_.” 

Thorin appeared to have a moment of inner struggle before sighing. “Excuse us, Mr Baggins,” he murmured. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you very much,” Bilbo said, “ – and please, you must call me Bilbo. Since we are to be _colleagues_ ,” he stressed.

Thorin’s head snapped up, and Bilbo smiled.

“I’m in the faculty directory,” he said, pushing his trolley away from the trio. “Look me up sometime.”

*~*~*

Some months later, Bilbo balanced carefully on the stepladder as he wrapped the strand of lights around his side of the tree. Behind him, Bofur and Nori bustled past with an oversized basket of holly held between them. Dori followed, muttering about damage to the carpet.

“How is it looking?” Thorin asked from the far side.

“Very… twinkly,” Bilbo said honestly. “Really, I think Gandalf may have over-invested in fairy lights for the department tree this year.”

A deep chuckle. “Well, we can run some around the doorframe if they won’t all fit on the tree.” 

“I’ll leave that to you and your superior height,” Bilbo said.

“Speaking of my superior height,” Thorin said, emerging from behind the branches, “would you like me to put the star on top while I’m here?”

The nice thing about stepladders, Bilbo thought, was the way they made it _much easier_ to kiss one’s ridiculously tall boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Hobbit Holiday, dear BakerStTardis! Hope you enjoy this little fic :)


End file.
